The Ace of Kings
by DemonicPiano
Summary: Matthew gets stuck having to go to a Kings' Meet in his brother's place, but it winds up not being such a scary thing in the end. In your face, Alfred! Cardverse AU. Written for the Hetalia Extravaganza 2k19.


_Author's Note - _Did I tell anyone how much I _love _when Matthew tries to tell people something, they don't listen, and he winds up being right? Because I just love, _love _that. Oh, sorry, spoilers.

Written for the 2k19 Hetalia Extravaganza on Tumblr, Day 1: Cardverse.

* * *

"All right! Let's get this Meet going! Are the carriages ready?"

Matthew, the Ace of Spades, and King Alfred's brother (and often - shadow), tried to keep up with the rest of the court hustling toward the front of the palace. "I-I asked for a coach, but the man was eating dinner, and I didn't want to disturb him-"

Yao, the Jack, announced, "Yes, I made sure there is one waiting for you right now, actually."

Knights peeled open the front doors, spilling dusk's light and (inevitably) cold air into the main hall. The Spadians shielded their eyes and faces before the grand stairs leading down to the front yard of the place, and a coach with twin horses was beyond that. The carriage driver sat on top, munching on some bread, and completely unfazed from the bracing winds rushing around the mountain side.

"Wow," Matthew said, "it's going to be really chilly tonight. You should pack warm-"

"Holy _shit_!" Alfred announced much less diplomatically. The Knights snapped straight and saluted as he stepped into the outside world. "I'm going to be freezing my ass off! What was Ludwig thinking?! A meeting at dusk?!"

Yao handed his King a stack of Very Important Papers and tucked his hands back into his sleeves to fend off some of the chill seeping into the palace, "Ai-yah, sire, you almost forgot the reason you were leaving in the first place!"

"Yeah, yeah. I better go-"

"Hold on, you fool," Queen Arthur tossed a knitted scarf over his King's head before wounding it in place, ignoring the indignant and Kingly grunting. "Don't be catching a cold, now."

Not really annoyed, "Guys! Come on! I got to go!"

"You'll be whining when you lying sick in bed!"

"I'm not going to get sick!"

Yao had to get a dig in, "Oh, stop. The Kings will still be there whether you are two minutes late or twenty."

Matthew drew in a sharp breath as his heel slid on icy brick, "Oh, Al, be careful going down. It's a bit icy-"

"Oh, and please, sire...if you _must _eat at the Meet, chew with your mouth closed. I received a _scathing _letter from King Francis on the matter..."

Matthew gritted his teeth. Maybe he should have just stayed in the library. Alfred went around, dishing quick hugs and kisses to his court, his family, before tossing his arms around his brother, who blinked in surprise like an idiot. "Oh, um, bye, Al." Quickly recovering, as the King turned away, "Be careful going down! There's-"

As soon as a Kingly foot touched the top step, his arms shot into the air and flailed as he went down, down, down...

"Alfred!" Matthew shouted.

"Oh, Gods!" Arthur cried, charging down the stairs.

Yao followed just as carelessly, "Be careful!"

The Knights followed, and Matthew shook his head to himself as he gripped the railing and went down _carefully_. Just before the palace steps, King Alfred was splayed on the snowy sidewalk, arms and legs out from his body. His eyes were closed, and his glasses and important paperwork had shot from his clutch to nest into the nearby snowbanks.

A Knight blurted, "Is he dead?!"

"He better not be!" Arthur swooped down to press two fingers to the King's neck.

Alfred gasped, becoming animated with twitchy limbs and whined, "Hey, stop! Your fingers are cold!"

"You _idiot_! Your arse is going to be cold if you're just going to keep laying there like that! Get up!"

Alfred let off a grunt, but didn't move.

Yao came down to investigate, "Sire? Did you hit your head?"

"No, not my head-"

Arthur grabbed a lapel and tugged, even more unforgiving than the cold gravel, "Then get up and dust yourself off! You look like an utter buffoon!"

"Your highness!" Yao scolded. "Not helping!"

"Well, it's true!"

Alfred said, " I broke my leg."

"WHAT?!"

"I said. I broke. MY LEG!"

The Spadian Court gawked at one another. Eyes followed the King's legs, both unsuspecting beneath thick trousers and fur boots. The Queen and Jack hurried to pat around, the former slipping in a scathing, "You got to be kidding me!"

"Oh, believe me!" Alfred let out a shallow laugh, still staring up to the dark clouds, "I wish I was." He yelped, suddenly able to pull himself to sit. "Ow! Don't be grabbing me like that, man!"

"Easy!" Matthew warned with an arm hovering behind his brother's back.

Arthur shook his arms at the King's leg, flabbergasting, "He broke his damn leg!"

"Yeah...I heard about that."

Yao declared, "We need to get him inside, to the infirmary! There's no way he's going anywhere like this."

Alfred shot over the Knights pressing closer to peel him from the ground, "Wait, wait! What about the King's Meet?"

Arthur and Yao stared at one another. Another Knight picked up the scattered paperwork, while another uncertainly set the King's glasses on top of his head with a curt bow. Yao took the papers, glancing down at whatever they said, before his gaze landed on Matthew. "You will have to go in his place."

"What?! No, that's...I can't!"

Alfred bemoaned his life, "Mattie! You got to! You're the only one I can trust!"

The Queen scoffed, "Excuse you!"

"Ignoring that," Yao shoved the papers into Matthew's surprised hands, "this is the first meeting after the autumn equinox. All four Kingdoms must come together to prepare for the winter months. Spades must be there!"

"You got to go, Mattie! Only you can do it!" Alfred called as Knights carried him away. "I LOVE YOU, MAN!" It was all very dramatic. Yao and Arthur spun away, getting swept up in the chaos back into the palace.

Matthew shouted, "Come on! Don't do this to me!"

Arthur ordered over his shoulder, "Go, Matthew!"

The carriage driver opened the door to his coach and beckoned, "Sir! The storm will pick up again soon!"

"Oh, COME ON!"

~.~

"Fifty four _tons_? Jeez, overproduction, much? Let's change that to say...eh, thirty-two?"

The carriage jostled a lone Matthew around in its cushiony confines. He pressed close to the window, squinting at his worksheets. It was well after dusk now. For his poor eyesight's sake, he tucked the now-edited plans away, hoping he did more good than harm.

What if the carriage driver couldn't see where he was going? What if there was a stray rock, or a new divot in the mountain side, unseen and ready to snag a wheel?

WHAT IF THAT UPCOMING BUILDING WAS NOT EVEN THE RIGHT ONE?!

The carriage let off a little jostle, and someone knocked on the door. Matthew yelled. He gawked toward the noise of intrusion, but it must have been the driver waiting for him to open the door from his side.

Matthew tentatively peeked into the cold, cold world. It was just the carriage driver holding out a hand to let him down with a stern, "Sir."

"Thanks," Matthew managed, giving his cloak and papers a stiff tug to look somewhat presentable. A King's Meet. With _Kings._ Although he was close to becoming one himself long ago, Alfred took to the throne far more gracefully than he believed himself could, even as children. Matthew was no King. He only had his own King's written guidance in hand to help.

A cursory sweep told of three other carriages, all painted with their separate Kingdom's motifs. The drivers met and mingled with hearty chuckles; the gravel road was not just for Kingly convergence. Matthew decided to stop procrastinating and stepped closer to the warm light spilling from candlelight in the cottage's windows. It was a bit too cold to stand around and look good, although that was just a mere breeze compared to the harsh mountain winds.

Three Kings waited for the last. Matthew gulped. He was not one of them.

He pushed open the front door, and slipped inside.

At least the place was warm and cozy, courtesy of a fireplace beckoning from behind couches and fur rugs. Matthew let his shoulders fall with a sigh as the feeling of ice against his cheeks melted. Nobody was around. He proceeded to one of several wooden doors, leaning close to listen to voices.

None came. He tried knocking. Then knocked on a different door. Nothing. Matthew's stomach churned, anxiety as nausea crept up to his throat and threatened to sting his eyes. These were _Kings._ Rulers and overseers of their Kingdoms. What they say, goes. Matthew was nobody. He didn't belong there. Why did Alfred had to go and break his leg? Damn it, his brother never listened to him, and Matthew always caught the consequences-

A completely different door down the hall opened, and a pale face peeked out. "Spades?" A couple of poofy fuzz balls on his cap swished as he tipped his head. "What are you doing? The meeting is over here, silly!"

"Oh!" Matthew squeaked. Tried to clear his throat. "Th-thanks. I forgot."

The man ducked back into the room, and Matthew teased the temptation of turning around and running out the front door. The Kings were waiting for him. He made sure to pick up his feet when he journeyed down the corridor, making a meal out of his inner cheek.

Matthew stopped in the doorway, blinking like a fool in surprise. The meeting of the Kings was far cozier than anything he would expect - fur rugs and couches included!

"Come in," a broad blond announced from his own seat in the middle, "with the storm, it will be much warmer in here."

"Yes," a man wearing _orange _noted, "we have to get that heater fixed. But this will do for now." He looked up and pulled a smile, "It's quite homey in here, no?" The tight expression on his stubbly face quickly fell into concern. "Alfred, there's something...hm, something different. Are you feeling well? You look pale."

Matthew twitched. "Uh, um..."

Staring. Frowning. Eyebrows furrowed.

These were just men at the end of the day.

Matthew was one of them, at least. "Alfred was unable to make it in today. So...as his brother, I am taking his place. Ahem, for today." He quickly added, "My name is Matthew, and it's nice to meet all of you."

The other King (most likely Clubs, based on the clover stitched onto the hem of his lapel), turned around from a tray of various bottles with wide eyes and a broad smile. "Yes! Didn't Alfred say he was a twin?"

"This is something different!" Diamonds thrilled, "Don't be shy! We should introduce ourselves!"

"Oh, no..." Matthew muttered under his breath.

"I completely agree," Hearts said, swishing a hand to the cushion beside himself, "Take a seat, and put your papers down. I'm sure it can wait a moment or two..."

A large hand clamped over Matthew's back, making him yelp. Clubs, with glee, guided (kind of forced) him toward the couches, "You should sit with me, Mister...ah..."

"Matthew?"

"No, no!" Diamonds shook an arm in a 'come here' gesture, "He would sit over there, and what? Smell vodka on your breath the whole time? I don't think so!"

"Better than inhaling cheap wine and stale cheese, yes?"

"Enough!" Hearts declared, "Matthew will sit at the front of the fire. We have important things to discuss for the Annual Trade Route, and nobody knows winter preparations than a Spade. He needs to be at the head."

Diamonds leaned back on his own couch with a sassy flick of hair over his shoulder, muttering, "He could have done that here."

"Sit!" Hearts barked, but his blue eyes were pleading. Matthew did, still gripping the Important Papers. "Don't worry about those just yet. You just got here, after all."

Clubs noted, "That is new, coming from you."

"Yes," Diamonds agreed, "It's always, go, go, go!"

One of the King of Heart's eyebrows twitched as Matthew nervously giggled beside him, "Even if Matthew is here just once, it would be rude to jump into work without properly introducing ourselves, first. That is not how Kings do things. Not in my Kingdom, at least." He lifted a hand with a tight-lipped grin, "King Ludwig of Hearts. It's nice to meet you."

Diamonds straightened, suddenly attentive with his own, "We do that here, too! It's Francis, King of Diamonds to you, dear."

Clubs just laughed, "Ivan of Clubs. That's it."

Matthew glanced amongst the King's expectant faces, and found himself pulling his own, if timid, smile. "Matthew. Ace of Spades."

"Welcome to the Meeting of Kings, Matthew," Ludwig announced. "It's nice to have you here."

"Th-thank you. It's nice to be here."

Ivan injected, "You're so quiet!"

"Oh, sorry. I said, 'It's nice to be here!'"

"Ha-ha! You're funny, Matthew! You are_ definitely _welcome."

"Yes! Much more so than your brother!" Francis gave a distasteful shake of the head, "Constantly bursting in here like his rear end has a firecracker underneath it!"

Matthew drew air between his teeth. "Oh, boy."

"Right," Ludwig took in the Important Papers. The other Kings automatically straightened. "Let's begin."

~.~

After a cold, dark journey up the mountain, Matthew finally arrived back home. He sighed in content at the sight of the blue-gray palace, to the Knights deeply nodding before peeling open the front doors, and, of course, the thought of his bed.

One of the Knights leaned in and murmured, "Sir. The King expressed his wish to speak to you. Sir."

Matthew pulled a frown, and begrudgingly nodded. A light shone from one of the halls sprouting from the main throne room, so he tried there first.

Sure enough, draped on a deep navy couch, laid the King in his night clothes. A thick cast took over one of his legs, which was propped onto Arthur's lap.

"Bro!" Alfred tossed his arms in the air, disturbing the Queen's knitting session. "Come here! Tell me all about it!"

"Eh, can't it wait?" Matthew shook off the lingering cold still clinging onto his coat. "It's kind of late-"

"Nope! Sit! Sit!"

Matthew took one of the chairs with enough personal space from his brother. "I think I would ask how you're doing, first."

"Don't worry about it! I'm totally fine. Artie's taking care of me!"

A Queenly grunt, "It's babysitting, that's what."

Alfred flashed a grin and flapped a hand at Matthew, as if he forgot what they were talking about within a second, "So, come on! Did those Kings make you work for your crown?"

"Considering I don't have one, no." Alfred just stared, still smiling with an intense fix in his eyes. Matthew sighed, "No, they were really welcoming about the whole thing. We talked a lot, actually. Like...a lot."

Alfred's face slouched into something else, distracting it with deep tip of his head, "About the Trade Route, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah, that too."

"So...you had a good time? They like our game plan?"

Matthew squashed a devious smile that threatened to come out. "Uh-huh. _Our _game plan. Yep." He perked up, "I had a much better time than I thought. I honestly don't know why you complain so much about the Meets."

Arthur harrumphed, "_I _have to hear it all night. Consider yourself _very _lucky."

"It's really like that, huh?" Alfred kept pulling funky faces. Puckered his lips. Curled his nose. "Okay. That's cool. Good thing you didn't make Spades look like a bunch of dummies! Ha-ha!"

"Unlike you?" Matthew blurted.

Arthur turned his head, putting a fist to his mouth to cough.

Alfred let out an obnoxious peel of laughter, "You're _so _funny, Mattie! That's great, because it looks like you're going to back there for at least the next two months! I mean...that's what Yao said."

Matthew nodded, "I kind of figured. I'm okay with that."

"You are? Well, that's GREAT."

"It really is."

"Yeah!"

"Yep."

"Uh-huh."

Queen Arthur set down his intense knitting game with a big huff, "It's getting late. I'm sure you had a long journey, Matthew. We can speak more of this at a better hour." He tacked on with an itty grumble, "and when I have less of a headache."

Matthew shot out of his seat so fast, something cricked. "Sounds good! I'll see you guys tomorrow! Goodnight." He glanced at his brother hanging miserably to the confines of his sofa, and sweetly smiled at the sight, "Goodnight, Alfred."

Curtly, "Yeah, Mattie. 'Night."

Matthew took his leave. As soon as he was out of the room, his brother bellowed, "THOSE MOTHERFUC-"

A slap of skin.

"Ow, Arthur!"

Matthew grinned to himself all the way upstairs.


End file.
